


Home

by MysticalAuthoress



Series: Home [1]
Category: Emerald City (TV 2016), Yakitate!! Japan
Genre: Emerald City spoilers, M/M, Yakitate Japan spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-04-16 01:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14153292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalAuthoress/pseuds/MysticalAuthoress
Summary: After an exiled Eamonn ends up in Tokyo, Japan, hit by a car, he has no idea how to get back to Oz. Then again…maybe being somewhere new isn’t a bad thing, even if it means getting used to the constant smell of baking bread, using this thing called a ‘taser,’ and overcoming some language barriers.





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**Author's Note:**

> Author note: I don’t own Yakitate!! Japan, nor do I own Emerald City. This is also crossposted from Fanfiction.net!
> 
> After watching Emerald City, I knew I had to write a fanfic starring Eamonn of all people, because he was my favourite character and he got the arguably worst ending out of all the characters in the show. So, here’s a fix-it crossover for him! I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> Also another note: In Japan, the name Yamada Tarō is a placeholder name for people whose real names are unknown, like a John/Jane Doe.
> 
> Warning: Takes place post-Emerald City and takes place just after the Pantasia Newcomers’ Arc and up until the end of the Monaco Cup Arc in Yakitate!! Japan, so there will be spoilers for both the show and the anime/manga! There is also eventual EamonnxKirisaki.

 

**_Home_ **

Summary: After an exiled Eamonn ends up in Tokyo, Japan, hit by a car, he has no idea how to get back to Oz. Then again…maybe being somewhere new isn’t a bad thing, even if it means getting used to the constant smell of baking bread, using this thing called a ‘taser,’ and overcoming some language barriers. 

* * *

 Eamonn wasn’t exactly sure what happened.

He recalled the Beast Forever flying far above him in exile, and then a stormy wind.

And _then_ he got hit by _something,_ and then darkness.

Beeping that droned on and on and _on_ woke him from slumber, from the darkness. Heavy armor, once clothing him, no longer was present. Wires, or what he assumed were wires, were clipped to his fingers, and as his vision cleared, needles appeared in his skin. They didn’t hurt. Not at first.

Then the pain came, and a grunt escaped his lips as he tried moving.

And then a voice spoke.

Who spoke? He stopped moving, then wearily turned his head to the right, just in time for a figure to approach him. The man dressed in some sort of formal attire—a lacy white shirt with billowy sleeves, with matching white pants and boots.

The man spoke a language Eamonn _didn’t_ know. He must have noticed the frown on Eamonn’s face, because he switched his voice to a different language. When _that_ didn’t work—

“Do you speak English?”

Eamonn blinked. “…I can understand you now,” He finally manage, trying not to grimace at how hoarse he sounded. “Yes.”

“Oh, good. Thank goodness you’re awake.” The man’s lips moved and Eamonn connected the voice with him. “I know the doctor said you survived and would be okay, but…I was quite worried you wouldn’t wake. I’m glad you are, now.”

* * *

 The General Manager of Pantasia wasn’t exactly sure what to say, or do.

After all, how does one handle seeing a man fall out of the sky and hit one of Pantasia’s limousines?

 ** _Ouch_** was the first thing he thought, on impact. And then Meister realized taking him to the hospital was probably a good idea, and so here he was with this man he did not know. A _Yamada Tarō_ , the doctors kept calling him, due to the man not having any ID on him at the time.

“What happened?” The poor man looked so lost, and Meister Kirisaki felt a bit bad for him.

“You’re in the hospital. You….fell out of the sky and got hit by a car. Specifically, my car.”

The man looked even more _lost_ at that. Meister grimaced.

“…Yes, it is exactly as it sounds. Trust me, I’ve witnessed stranger things in this past year alone. The past week, even.”

The other man wasn’t sure what to say about that.

“Um…” The General Manager wasn’t exactly sure what to say. It wasn’t every day he dealt with this sort of thing. “What is your name? There wasn’t any identification on you when we got you here.”

The other man was silent, then— “Eamonn.”

Eamonn. That wasn’t a name he’d heard of before. “You’ll hear other people address me as Meister Kirisaki, but that’s simply a title for my position.”

Eamonn frowned. “…you’re a noble? What do you rule?”

“Uh, nothing, technically. It’s the clothes, isn’t it?” The General Manager gazed down at his own attire, then looked to the other man, trying not to bite his lip as he offered him a reassuring smile. “It’s part of my job. Have to dress to impress. I’m the General Manager of a bakery called Pantasia. I was just leaving a just-finished competition when you literally fell out of the sky, and hit the company’s limo. Thought it would be best to bring you here.”

The weird, still disbelieving look from Eamonn made Meister sigh. “I’m guessing you’re really new to this place, aren’t you?”

Eamonn nodded. “You could say that.”

“Okay.” The masked man thought a bit, and then, “I didn’t find any identification on you, nor did the doctors—” He paused at the other’s puzzled expression, _“healers,_ when they examined you and mended up your wounds. It seems that helmet you wore saved you from a _lot_ of head damage. You could have died, if you didn’t. Same goes for the rest of your armor.”

Eamonn’s lips rubbed together, swallowing, and Meister frowned. “I’m…sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t go much further on that. Do you have any other questions? Do you need anything?”

The man in the hospital bed frowned, then shook his head. “Just need a minute alone.”

“Of course. I’ll go, um, talk to the doctor and tell him you’re awake.”

Meister turned, moving to leave, then…

“Wait. I have a question.”

Meister blinked, turned to him again. “What is it?”

Eamonn’s chest caved, his eyes not meeting Meister’s gaze, and then he spoke.

“…I may sound stupid asking this, but what is a _car?”_  

* * *

 The General Manager found himself explaining a _lot_ of modern technology to this man, Eamonn (pronounced ‘eh-men,’ not ‘ee-men’). All of this was _so_ new to him. Had he never went anywhere before? He knew that there were people that just never really left their home, whether it be because of the ties they made there, or the lack of financial resources (for Meister Kirisaki, it was the latter at first).

But what kind of person from outside Japan just fell from the sky? And have no idea of the language, either? Meister could speak some English, enough for conversation, but French and Japanese were much stronger. It seemed Eamonn didn’t know much of the other two languages, just English, but the General Manager arranged for him to learn a bit of Japanese in his spare time.  They conversed in mostly English, sometimes Japanese just to test things out, but at least Eamonn could talk to people.

Meister felt bad enough that the man was hit by one of Pantasia’s own limos, and Eamonn didn’t exactly have anywhere to go, so having him work and essentially live at the Main Branch seemed like the best solution for now, at least until Eamonn had enough to live on by himself. The man just broke into tears the moment he got that news, and the General Manager wondered if, maybe, Eamonn was once rejected by people from the place he came from.

But then Meister remembered the lion-head-shaped helm the man apparently wore, an item the doctors allowed him to look at when getting Eamonn’s belongings back to him. Eamonn quickly told Meister to just throw it out, that he didn’t want to see it. Meister had…well, kept it for himself. For now.

What kind of place did Eamonn come from, that he needed a lion’s head-shaped helmet to wear? Some different place altogether? If Kuroyanagi-san could die and go to heaven, only to come back to life an hour later, could alternate worlds be possible?

Now even _that_ sounded far-fetched. And Meister was sure it wasn’t the cause of someone eating bread, either, unless proven otherwise.

Weird things happened because of bread. Who said weird things couldn’t happen because of other things?

“I never thought Oz was a real place.”

Eamonn, dressed in a suit similar to the usual Pantasia security guards, frowned. “You believed it wasn’t?”

The General Manager offered him a grin. “Well…I’m pretty sure most people in this world don’t think Oz is a real place.”

“I never heard of this Tokyo, Japan before until coming here.”

“Mm, true. I don’t have much room to judge.” He took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall. “So, let me try to summarize what you’ve told me about who are you and where you come from. Your name is Eamonn, head of the Wizard’s Guard. You served this man called the Wizard, who rules Emerald City in a land called Oz.”

Eamonn nodded, silent, motioning for him to continue. Meister obliged.

“You had to search for this Dorothy, presumably to imprison her for the death of East, and then the Wizard changed his mind and wanted to use her against Glinda. However…” It was hard to tell if Meister raised an eyebrow, due to the mask he wore, _“You_ also work for Glinda. A double agent. Her mole. You kept a young witch, Sylvie, safe for her. At the same time, you also knew someone else…Roan, was it? Lucas?”

“Roan.” Eamonn remembered the last time he saw him. “He was Roan when I knew him.” He didn’t want to talk about the man Roan became.

“Okay.” Another deep breath, then… “The Wizard let Dorothy go with Roan and Sylvie to presumably use Sylvie to kill Glinda. That didn’t happen, evidently, as Roan regained his memories he’d lost before, and so a war between Glinda and the Wizard broke out and you don’t know what happened with Dorothy or Roan since letting them go. You were ordered to stay behind at Emerald City, only for the rightful Queen Ozma to conquer the city, erase the memories of you from the rest of your family, and banish you into exile.”

_You will wander, as the beast you truly are._

Eamonn’s face twisted, and he nodded, trying to forget the face of his wife, Indra, flinching and saying that she did not know him, as well as his daughter and son. His head bowed, some hair falling in front of his face.

“…That is what happened.”

Meister shook his head a little, exhaling sharply. “Just because you served someone doesn’t mean that you deserved this. I don’t know what this Wizard made you do that would prompt Ozma to separate you from your family, especially in such a manner, but…”

“I killed her parents. Twenty years ago.”

Silence. Meister’s head lifted a bit to look him in the eyes. Eamonn forced himself to keep talking, because this man deserved the truth.

“I did it when the Wizard came into rule. For no reason, other than to save my own skin. I couldn’t kill her—my daughter is about her age. I realized, when I saw her, that I was nothing but a coward.”

Meister went silent. Eamonn could not read his face, but he saw the frown forming on his lips. The Lion of Oz raised an eyebrow.

“Does that explain everything?”

“It…” Meister faltered, swallowed, then spoke. “It definitely clarifies why she’d do that. I’m more surprised she didn’t upright murder your family.”

Eamonn bit his lower lip. “There are fates worse than death.”

Meister could only nod, knowing too well that he was right.

* * *

 Eamonn traded in the armor for the sharp, crisp suits that the other security guards at Pantasia wore. He didn’t understand how they enforced the building without swords, shields, or those things called guns that the Wizard recently introduced back in Oz. However, that question was answered with a something called a ‘taser.’

“It’s not for killing.”

Ryou Kuroyanagi, a raven-haired man, told him that. Eamonn presumed he must be a higher-up in this Pantasia, because he’d seen him talking with Meister at times, as well as barking orders at various bakers back and forth, particularly trying to make sure a bandanna-wearing baker and this blond guy didn’t kill each other working in the same building. Kuroyanagi also knew English, more fluently than Sylvan, and Eamonn found himself being much for grateful for that than he thought he’d be.

Then again, being in a world, specifically in an area where most people don’t speak your language is…well, daunting. It was a comfort, knowing that at least some people knew the same language Eamonn did.

Eamonn frowned, looking at the taser, then at Kuroyanagi. “What is the point of a weapon if it doesn’t kill?”

“It’s only to stun anyone that gets violent. And honestly, that rarely happens.”

But then why not use it on the bandanna-wearing baker with a sword? Eamonn did not understand the lack of logic in letting that man stay armed despite not being a security guard.

Looking to Kuroyanagi, he recalled what Meister told him about this man. The main judge of the past Pantasia Newcomers’ tournament, and would soon be accompanying Team Japan to this tournament in a place called France. The Monaco Cup, if he recalled correctly.

How the heck did a man such as Kuroyanagi think of nearly kissing Meister in public, even if it was a reaction to tasting bread? Meister recounted that story with a laugh, with guesses that Kuroyanagi probably ‘swung that way’ given how, beforehand, that he’d overheard hearing how Kuroyanagi was ‘in love’ with Kanmuri Shigeru back when studying at a place called Harvard.

Also...how could anyone react so strongly to just eating something, to _think of actually kissing someone and go in for it?_

This world was very strange, evidently, with strange people and behaviours.

“Eamonn?”

Eamonn blinked. Kuroyanagi glared at him.

“Were you listening?”

Eamon swallowed, nodded stiffly. “Yes.” _No._

“Then, show me how to use the taser.”

He tried, despite having listened to his own thoughts instead of Kuroyanagi’s spoken instructions just now.

He failed—with shocking results. Kuroyanagi twitched on the floor. Eamonn looked to the taser, then the pained Kuroyanagi, before calling for a healer, later reminding himself that healers were called doctors, nurses or medics in this world.

* * *

 Kuroyanagi, a week or two later, left the country to go to France. Mainly for this tournament called the Monaco Cup, but Eamonn wondered if it was also because he didn’t _want_ to be stuck teaching Eamonn things that he would just end up fucking up badly.

That _might_ be the case, actually. Eamonn didn’t blame him for that. He realized quickly he was a novice at all these things in this world, which was incredibly embarrassing. Everyone gave him a lot of weird stares but gave him the benefit of the doubt due to his unusual situation.

This also meant the task of delivering reports and papers and things to Meister ended up falling to Eamonn most of the time, instead of Kuroyanagi doing such tasks. It was slightly annoying, given the volume of paperwork he had to carry, but it forced him to learn navigating the Pantasia Main Building. Where the shortcuts were, if it was worth using the elevator depending on which floor you were on, and so on. That wasn’t too bad. It also helped him avoid the several people that looked at him weirdly, too.

He walked in to find Meister laughing at the small thing called a television. It takes Meister a moment to calm down before showing Eamonn what it is.

The ‘English’ team reciting how awesome they are at being fast bakers had Eamonn laughing in seconds.

“That’s the first time I heard you laugh,” Eamonn managed after a few moments.

Meister simply smiled back. “And that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh. Or see you smile.”

Both men went awkwardly silent at those statements. Meister then sighed, muttered something in some other language, and then spoke again.

“Sorry, if I made it awkward.”

“It’s…fine.”

Things still felt awkward, but it was a good try.

Okay, different approach to break it up. Eamonn took a deep breath, before wordlessly handing him the reports.

“Thank you.” Meister took them from him, opening up the file and starting to leaf through the papers. “You may go attend to anything else that is of priority. Unless…do you have any questions? Actually,” He looked up from the papers to Eamonn, “How are you adjusting? I hope you’re well?”

“…” Eamonn wasn’t sure what to say, but managed an “I’m fine” after a moment.

“Eamonn, you can be open with me. As much as you’re comfortable with, of course. Going to a completely unfamiliar place is weird enough. Going there involuntarily can’t make things much better, I presume.”

“You’re right. About all of that. It’s…fine, but weird, Meister.” That was all Eamonn could say.

Meister seemed satisfied enough with that answer. “It’s Sylvan.”

Eamonn blinked. Meister, no Sylvan smiled back at him.

“Sylvan is my first name. Meister is just a title.”

“So, Sylvan then?”

“Just between the two of us.”

Eamonn couldn’t help but smile, slightly. The fact that the younger man trusted him with his real name was…nice. “Duly noted.”

* * *

 The next few weeks to a month were nice. Sylvan introduced him to other things in this world, like podcasts and the radio, and Eamonn did his best to learn more Japanese and Sylvan got to practice his English more. It wasn’t always easy, as it was easy for things to get confusing. Patience was a virtue, when sorting things out.

“Why is there always a peacock with the Japanese team? Where did they even get it from?”

“Oh, that’s my pet. His name is Coo.”

Eamonn stared at him. “…really?”

Sylvan chuckled. It amused him, sometimes, seeing the other so perplexed. “It’s a long story as of how I got Coo as a pet, but yes, he belongs to me. I sent him along with the Japanese team so my sister could identify them easily when first meeting them, since she’s helping them with training for the Monaco Cup.”

“I see.”

Sylvan thought of Kuroyanagi, frowning. “I do hope Kuroyanagi is alright with Coo, though. I know for a fact that they don’t always get along.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Sylvan grimaced, and Eamonn looked amused. “Do you think they might destroy each other?”

“I hope not.”

“I hope not, too.”

Both of them proceeded to continue working, pretending that dreadful thought never occurred to them. 

* * *

 Eamonn walked in to see Sylvan finish up a phone call in Japanese he could not translate fast enough in his head, before the General Manager put the phone down, sighing.

“I have your reports.” Eamonn managed, holding up the file in his hands.

“Just put them on the desk. I’ll get to them soon.” Sylvan walked out from behind the desk, and the blond did not look very good. Even with a mask on, something about him seemed…weary.

“Are you alright?” Eamonn caught himself asking as he put the files down.

“No.” Sylvan straightened himself, looking to him. “Pantasia…Pantasia’s stock has been mostly bought up at this point. There’s not much I can do.”

The confusion on Eamonn’s face must have been obvious, because Sylvan proceeded to explain. “Stocks are like…it’s like having a piece of something. The more pieces you have, the more of that something you own. And right now, St. Pierre has a good amount of it. If they get just enough, they’ll be owning Pantasia. And that’s not good.”

Given the tone of Sylvan’s voice, that definitely didn’t sound good.

“Is there anything we can do to stop it?”

“Not at this point, I’m afraid.” Sylvan leaned back against the wall, before speaking. “You can go, Eamonn. Get some rest.”

_“Have you slept?”_

“What?” Sylvan stared at him, frowning.

Eamonn thought he didn’t say it right in Japanese, and tried again in English, hoping to reach him. “Have you slept?”

It was Sylvan’s turn to go silent, to hesitate. Then, he shook his head. “I haven’t. Not for the past few days. I’ve survived on coffee, trying to get everything organized to avoid Pantasia’s stock getting all bought up, but nothing seems to stop it, and now I’ve...”

“Sylvan.” Eamonn walked over to him, stood in front of him, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You need to sleep. You won’t get much done in this state.”

“I…” Sylvan’s protest ended as he locked eyes with the Lion of Oz, and saw the look in his eyes. “You’re right. I…” He looked back to his desk, then to Eamonn. “Let me just turn off the laptop and everything first, okay? Can you…bring me back to my room?”

Eamonn swallowed. He hadn’t expected the last bit, but it was fine. Also, Sylvan looked like he was ready to fall over, so that might be a reason he asked that. Probably was, actually.

“Yes.”

He was just glad Sylvan listened to and considered his advice, unlike a certain Wizard back in Oz. 

* * *

 He half dragged Sylvan to his room, which was actually on a different floor than his office. The place looked similar to Eamonn’s own dorm room (a lot of bakers came from outside Tokyo, and so were given their own living quarters here at the Main Branch apparently). A little sparse, like his room, but still a room.

“I like keeping everything neat.” Sylvan explained. He let Eamonn enter the room with him, closing the door behind them. “It’s…calming.”

Eamonn bit his lip as he thought of spilled blood, and a fallen King and Queen, before shaking his head a little to throw those memories away. “Agreed.”

“Uh…” Sylvan looked to the door, then to Eamonn, “I shouldn’t have closed the door just now. You can go back to yours and get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes…”

Both men stood there, in awkward silence, and Eamonn knew there was a something between them that needed to be addressed.

“Are we always going to end up having this silence?”

“Silence?” Sylvan blinked. “You don’t like it?”

Eamonn hesitated, but then let it pour out right then and there, before he could even think of stopping himself.

“It makes me feel like I’m not alone, when we talk.”

* * *

 Sylvan wanted to _slap himself_ right then and there when Eamonn confessed that he felt less alone when they were talking, rather than being in silence. Eamonn was in exile back in Oz. Which meant that no one would want to talk to him.

Sylvan couldn’t imagine how bad _that_ was. It was bad enough, being abandoned by one’s own father, but Sylvan knew that he at least had Sophie to be with, and later on their adoptive father Gordon.

But Eamonn? Alone in exile, with his family not even being allowed to remember him?

“I see now.” Sylvan swallowed. “I’m sorry, Eamonn. I had no idea.”

“It’s not your fault. You showed me more mercy than anyone has in a long time. And it’s not like your English is perfect, nor is my Japanese, and I don’t know your French. Silence is sometimes inevitable.”

“Let’s hope silence _forever_ isn’t inevitable.” Sylvan looked at Eamonn’s face directly, now, and realized how tired the other looked, too. “Have you slept?”

“…” Eamonn shook his head, after a moment.

Sylvan knew that his fellow coworkers were all the way back in France, and Eamonn and him had mainly each other for company, given the circumstances of everything. Both were lonely.

Could they not, then, help each other feel a little less lonely?

“Sylvan?”

It was Eamonn that brought him out of his thoughts, Eamonn that put a hand to his forehead. It was a gesture meant to check for a fever. Had Sylvan stared into space too much just now?

“I’m here. I’m okay.” Sylvan put a hand to Eamonn’s wrist, before moving the other’s hand downwards to his shoulder. “I’m not sick…I think.”

“I hope you don’t get sick.” Eamonn gazed right back at him, and he looked like he wanted something, and Sylvan hoped he knew what it was.

Without thinking about it further, he kissed him.

Eamonn was not a stranger to being kissed on the lips. He’d been kissed before, by Maeve back in Oz when they were happily married, when she knew him as her husband and he knew her as his wife.

But he did not expect _Sylvan_ to kiss him, and he jolted back, putting a hand to his own lips. He saw Sylvan’s eyes widen, the faint gasp escaping him as teeth gritted together.

“E-Eamonn, I….I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

_Ah, to hell with it._

Eamonn grabbed Sylvan by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for another kiss. Teeth gnashed together, rough and wanting, and Sylvan tried his hardest to join in.

Both men pulled back, after a moment, to breathe, staring right at each other.

“What the hell did I just…?” Eamonn put a hand to his own lips, then looked up at Sylvan, sharply inhaling. “…Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Um…” Sylvan extended a hand towards Eamonn’s face, cupping his cheek. “Do you mind if we…?”

Eamonn leaned into his touch, like a cat would, before nodding. “We can try. Again.”

Sylvan kissed him, and Eamonn melted into it as he kissed him back.

* * *

 Sunlight streamed through the curtains enough for Eamonn to wake up. His surroundings were unfamiliar, and he knew this wasn’t his bedroom that he shared with Maeve back in Oz, nor was it his own dorm room in Pantasia.

But that meant—

He sat up in bed, a gasp tearing from his lips as he realized what the hell happened.

A weary Sylvan. Taking him back to his room. Silence. _Kissing._

And Eamonn, at some point, discarded his jacket on a chair at the nearby desk in the room, as well as shoes. Sylvan, too, with the titanium mask discarded on the nightttable, beside the alarm clock.

Neither of them were naked and were fairly clothed, so clearly nothing happened beyond the kissing. Eamonn heaved a relieved breath at that, because he figured both of them were too tired to go beyond kissing, anyway.

He heard Sylvan stir, and he moved to lay on his side, to face him properly as the General Manager of Pantasia woke up.

“Eamonn…?” Sylvan blinked, several times, gazing at him gently. “What happened last night?’

The Lion of Oz felt his face warm. “We kissed. A lot.”

Sylvan’s own face flushed, eyes widening. “Did we…?”

“Gods, _no.”_ The Lion of Oz shook his head, running a hand through his own hair as he sat up in bed. “I think we ended up falling asleep. Can’t remember much after kissing, honestly.”

“I see.” The General Manager sat up beside him, before he raised a hand to his own lips, running fingertips across them, and then reached towards Eamonn’s face, copying the same motion. It was strange, his touch, how delicate Kirisaki could be with something like this, as if Eamonn was made of glass. But Eamonn was not made of glass. He was flesh and bone, with regret lingering in his veins.

Maybe love, too?

Was _this_ love?

Surely he’d know what that was. Right? He loved his wife, daughter, and son. Surely he should know that.

What he felt around Sylvan was different. It was romantic, but different. Perhaps it was because he didn’t think of himself falling for another man, that he didn’t think it was possible for him to ‘swing that way’ as others might say, but…well, whatever it was, it felt good, and _caring_ , so full of compassion that he didn’t want to lose.

Grasping Sylvan’s hand ghosting over his lips with both hands, he kissed the palm of it, then the back of it. He could hear Sylvan smile, and then…

“Can I tell you something?”

Eamonn looked up at Sylvan. The younger man’s smile…vanished. Why?

“What is it?” Eamonn felt himself frown. “Is there something wrong?”

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you on something, and…well,” Sylvan moved to get off the bed, “I ought to show you.”

What was it that he wanted to show? The General Manager walked over to the nearby closet, before opening it and taking out an object.

Eamonn’s heart froze at seeing it, and Sylvan grimaced, swallowing.

“I know you never wanted to see it again—”

The Lion of Oz’s face hardened. “Then _why keep it?”_

He knew he didn’t want to see it again. He’d told him, back at the hospital, and yet…

“Because…” Sylvan forced himself to breathe in, then out, and Eamonn cursed himself for his voice sounding like it growled just now. “I was so curious. _Too_ curious. And I know you wanted me to get rid of this. I’m sorry I didn’t honour your request.”

“…” Eamonn let the silence happen this time, but he also broke it moments afterwards, inhaling deeply, slowly. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’m sorry, too.”

Sylvan put the lion helm on the bed, before walking towards the window, opening the blinds. “You know how St. Pierre is slowly taking this company’s stock, as I mentioned last night? The man who is in charge of St. Pierre—he’s _my father.”_

Eamonn’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt his jaw tighten. _“What?”_

He couldn’t comprehend _why_ a father would do that against his own son. What drove them apart for them to going against each other?

“He abandoned me and my sister when I was young.” A hollow chuckle escaped Sylvan’s lips as he looked to the Lion of Oz. “He said he wanted to create Japan’s national bread…and that he had to go back there. So he left me, my then-unborn sister, and my mother in France. I don’t know if he achieved that particular dream, but it’s clear that he’s successful—and at this rate, moreso than Pantasia ever will be.”

So…that explained a lot. “Why not go to St. Pierre then? Reap the fruits of your father for yourself?”

“I’m not that weak to rely on him, Eamonn.” Sylvan turned towards him again, head tilting a little. “Everyone has to forge their own path out of their own will. If they don’t, they’re lost. But forging such a path means we need to confront any obstacles and boundaries time and time again. My father just happens to be one of them, apparently.”

Eamonn thought back to how he’d slain King Pastoria, his wife, left _only_ Ozma alive. He remembered putting the helm away as soon as he could, to _hide it away, to deny it ever happened_ —only for him to open it up **_again_** , years later, and know that he couldn’t run away. That he had to surrender himself to whatever fate awaited him, because that was the right thing to do.

And what did that get him? His wife, daughter and son would never know that he existed in their lives, once upon a time. _Ever._

Eamonn swallowed, and his gaze could not meet Sylvan’s own. “…Are they alive?”

Sylvan blinked. “What?”

Eamonn’s jaw tightened. “Your mother, and sister. Do they live?”

“My sister, Sophie, does. I’ve told you about her before.” The younger man paused, then frowned. “Mother died not long after Father abandoned us. She grew ill, and passed away. We didn’t have the money for medicine at the time.”

Eamonn heaved a breath. “…Condolences.”

“You didn’t know. It’s okay. And…honestly, Sophie and I were lucky. We got adopted by a man named Gordon, who happened to be a baker himself. It’s thanks to him we’re alive.”

Eamonn looked up at him, to see Sylvan approach him, and the Lion of Oz cupped the General Manager’s cheek as soon as he got close enough. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Sylvan blinked. “Hm?”

“I’m glad you found me.” He looked into the younger man’s eyes. “Because I was lost, and _you_ gave me a path to take. A good one.”

Something a bit more honourable and better than his past, that was for sure. Eamonn knew he could work with that. It was better than what happened back then, and maybe this was a real step in the right direction, as well as what he had right now with the one that saved his life.

Sylvan smiled back at him, softly, and the Lion of Oz’s thoughts darted back to how the younger man mentioned his own broken up family, the solemnness in him.

“Do you hate him? Your father?” He couldn’t help but ask that.

Sylvan shrugged, leaning into his touch. “I don’t know. I know Sophie hates him, and she has every right to since she never really saw his face growing up, but I know my father was a different man before. He wasn’t always like this.”

Eamonn swallowed, his hand dropping from Sylvan’s cheek to his side. He knew he was a different man in the past, too. “But people change.”

“Yes. They do, Eamonn, don’t they?”

Sylvan’s eyes bore into his this time. Eamonn could only gaze right back at him, and he only blinked when the younger man moved to take his hand in his own, squeezing it.

 _“You_ changed.” It was Sylvan that spoke. “What you did back then…your past doesn’t define you. And my past does not define me, either. It’s what we do right now that does.”

Eamonn closed his eyes, a slow sigh escaping him, and then he leaned forwards to kiss him. Lips and teeth gnashed against each other, initially awkward, but soon melted together, gentler and slower.

Sylvan looked to the lion helm on the bed, then to Eamonn.

“What will do with it? Your past? Oz? Your family?”

Eamonn took a long moment, to gaze at the lion helm, and then to Sylvan again.

“There’s nothing left for me back there.” And that _was_ true, as painful as it was for him to say it aloud. “I want to move forwards. I want to annihilate my past.”

Sylvan simply smiled.

“I can get you a rolling pin and other baking materials to wreck that helm, if you want. Feel free to use that taser of yours, too. I know you have one.”

Eamonn felt himself slowly smile back at him.

“That sounds good.” 

* * *

 The lion helm was destroyed that day. No turning back, now.

Eamonn didn’t want to go back. Not anymore. 

* * *

 “Hey, Eamonn?”

“Yes?”

“It’s getting close to the finals at the Monaco Cup, and Japan is winning. I’m going to France in a few days, and I want you to go with me…as a friend. Or, if you want it to be known to others, lover.”

Eamonn gave a look that said, _You’re not joking, are you?_

Sylvan took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “If word publicly got out that the General Manager of Pantasia and one of his bodyguards ended up coming to France, people are going to talk. And I don’t know how people in Oz view same-sex relationships, but it’s not necessarily something completely accepted in Japanese society here. Also, if it got out at around the same time the news of Pantasia losing its stock to St. Pierre, people are _really_ going to talk. It’s a matter of timing, and your comfort.”

Oh. That suddenly made a lot more sense.

Eamonn thought about it, silent. He and Sylvan both knew that even if the Japanese team won the Monaco Cup at this point, Pantasia was already owned up by St. Pierre. And Eamonn knew he didn’t know any of those people on the Japanese team, save for Kuroyanagi, kind of.

“You want this? You want,” He looked down at their entwined hands, then up at him, _“us?_ You’re fine with us being known to the others like this?”

Sylvan swallowed, then nodded.

“I _want_ to be with you like this, even if it means just telling a select few people. And I think the two of us travelling could do us some good. Going to France means more than just seeing coworkers and arranging what will happen with Pantasia and all. It means,” He smiled, “I get to introduce you to my sister.”

Right. Sister. Eamonn almost forgot.

So, Sylvan was comfortable, at least comfortable enough with telling his close ones, but not without Eamonn being comfortable with it, too. That was nice. That was good.

Well, news of it would come out eventually to these closer people, right?

“We can go as lovers, Sylvan.”

* * *

Being on a plane, a cramped space, to go to France wasn’t the most fun. Eamonn ended up just watching what they called a ‘movie’ (“It’s like a play, but you don’t have to be at the exact location to watch it,” Sylvan explained), before just falling asleep the whole rest of the flight.

Probably a good thing too, or else the pressure of the plane rising and later landing would have been too much. Thankfully, he didn’t vomit. Neither did Sylvan.

Eamonn never traveled by air before. It was mainly by horse, carriage, or foot. It was different, for sure, and remarkable how all these people could fit into one space and be flown to a completely different place. Like being in a wagon or carriage, but in the air. That was the best way he could understand it.

France was different than Japan, that was for certain. People spoke a language only Sylvan knew. Eamonn had tried his best to read up and learn a few basic phrases beforehand, but there was only so much he could learn in a few short days before the trip. Since Sylvan’s sister lived in France, she probably knew French, too.

“Does she know Japanese or English?”

“She and I both know Japanese. Her English might be slightly better than mine? I’m not sure.” Sylvan tilted his head to the side, gently leaning it against Eamonn’s shoulder as they both rode in the taxi on the way to the hotel. He wasn’t wearing his mask and his clothes were relatively plain, mainly because being identified in the public as Meister Kirisaki wasn’t what either of them wanted right now. “French is her first language, and probably stronger than mine at this point. When I came to Japan to work, she stayed back in France to run a bakery that our adoptive father used to run, called Gordon Bleu.”

“I see.” The Lion of Oz bit his lower lip, eyes darting to the other. “Do you think…talking might be an issue?”

“The language barrier might be a little worse than you and me, but I can help translate between the both of you if needed.” Sylvan turned his head to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m sure she’ll like you. Just…be yourself.”

Eamonn simply nodded and kissed him back. Even when they both went silent, it started to feel comfortable, because at least they shared the silence with each other.

* * *

 They got to the hotel soon enough, and it was filled with people.

There was also a particular group of people that Eamonn remembered seeing on the television whenever he stuck around with Sylvan back in the office, back at Pantasia. The Japanese team, right? The man with a bandanna, the balding young man, and the one with the pink headband. He couldn’t remember their names, which was probably a bad thing, but he’d worry about that a little later. There was also a blond woman and Kuroyanagi present with the group as well.

“I hope you all are well.” It was Sylvan that spoke up as he and Eamonn approached them.

“Meister!?” The balding man gasped as Sylvan approached. “Is that _you?”_

“Yes. But please don’t tell anyone, lest the paparazzi get in our faces. I came here unmasked for a reason.” Sylvan looked to Sophie, waving, and she waved back. Eamonn guessed she must be Sophie.

The bandanna-wearing man looked to Eamonn, eyes narrowing. “Who’s this guy?”

Eamonn simply gave him a look in return, but the man did not back down. He seemed like a fighter.

Actually, given the katana the bandanna-wearing man had on him, that might honestly be the case.

“I thought you said we don’t use swords at Pantasia.” Eamonn managed, looking to Kuroyanagi, who sighed.

“Well, we _don’t_ …but Suwabara does.”

Suwabara did not look amused. Eamonn felt a bit disconcerted by his staring at this point, and so tried to ignore it.

“Ah, Suwabara…” Sylvan faltered, looking from Suwabara to Eamonn, and then to Kuroyanagi who also gave him a similar, inquisitive expression. “Um…”

Well, no point in hiding it at this point.

“This is Eamonn, my…romantic confidante, for lack of better words.”

Three, two, **one…**

 _“WHAT WAS THAT!?”_  

* * *

 “Is it bad that they reacted this way?”

“I hope they were more shocked than anything.” Sylvan grimaced as he and Eamonn unpacked their bags. After the hastily shortened explanation of everything that happened between the General Manager and the Lion of Oz, the Japanese team, Kuroyanagi and Sophie had a lot to take in. Eamonn and Sylvan figured it was best to evacuate to their hotel room and settle down while they did so.

“I mean…” Eamonn sat on the bed, exhaling, “I’ve never had anyone react like that to me in a relationship before.”

“I’ve never _been_ in a romantic relationship before, period. I admit it’s a bit overwhelming. But…I don’t think they reacted too badly.” Sylvan leaned back against a wall opposite Eamonn, putting his bag down as he looked to the other. “I’m sure they understand. I’ve worked with them before, so it’s not like we’re completely foreign to them. Also, my sister at least looked like she took it well earlier.”

There was a knock on the door, and Sylvan moved to open it.

Sophie stood there, leaning in the doorway. “Exactly how soon did you two get together?”

Well, _that_ was quick. Eamonn and Sylvan exchanged awkward looks, then Eamonn spoke up, standing.

“About…” Eamonn counted in his head, “Two weeks ago. Something like that.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. He swallowed, going silent. She then chuckled, grinning. “Hey, I don’t bite. I’m just glad my brother finally got together with someone. It’s about time he did!”

…That wasn’t the reaction he expected. Sylvan gasped, trying to say something, but he looked too embarrassed to say anything as Sophie burst into laughter, before giving Eamonn a soft look.

“What? You thought I’d disapprove?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how much he’s told you about me before we came here.” The words came out of Eamonn’s mouth before he could stop them.

“Well…” Her expression turned sheepish, eyes looking towards the floor, and Eamonn also noticed Sylvan swallow a bit, reluctant to share anything. Sophie finally sighed, before speaking. “He’s…told me how you got to this world in the first place. As well as other stuff.”

“I told her most of what happened since you arrived in this world.” Sylvan managed, “But I didn’t tell her _anything_ from your past, if that’s any reassurance.”

“Good.” Eamonn inhaled deeply. “Because…I want to tell her myself.”

And he did tell her, later, when he felt calm enough to tell her. He expected her to be angry, especially with what he knew of her and Sylvan’s father, but…she surprisingly took it somewhat well. Or at civil enough in front of him. He wasn’t sure.

At least she approved of him and Sylvan being together, and that was a start.

* * *

It was the night after the finals match between Azuma Kazuma and this guy named Shadow White. Azuma won, securing Team Japan’s victory, but the news also fell that Pantasia’s stock was bought up. But that was an issue to be figured out tomorrow.

Tonight…tonight was a party to celebrate the victory, before another battle started. Eamonn knew it meant that he and Sylvan, as well as the others, would return to Japan. To Pantasia.

To home.

…Home?

Eamonn never thought of this strange world being home before, but maybe this was what he had to call home in the end. Oz seemed so far away, and he had no idea if he could ever get back.

But he had a place to live here, a job to do. And….people. Strange people, but they were people, and among those people was someone he knew he loved and still loves deeply. It seemed strange, to think of himself loving the General Manager in that way, but then again, it seemed that anything was possible.

And…what was left for him, back in Oz? Not his family. No title, nor riches, nor even shelter. He knew he made his decision long before now, before even coming here to France with Sylvan. He didn’t want to go back to Oz anymore, because that wasn’t home anymore.

“Eamonn?”

He blinked out of his thoughts, turning to his right to see Sylvan standing beside him. He’d dressed in a nice suit, like Eamonn had, and this time he wore the mask befitting of the General Manager of Pantasia, of who everyone called Meister Kirisaki.

“Are you alright?” Sylvan took a deep breath, before speaking again. “You seem really quiet this evening, and I was a bit worried.”

“A little homesick.” Eamonn finally admitted, after a moment.

The General Manager of Pantasia frowned. “Oz, isn’t it?”

Eamonn shook his head. “No.”

“What?” Sylvan’s own eyes widened.

“I was thinking of Japan and Pantasia, and you.” Eamonn looked him in the eyes this time, and Sylvan maintained the gaze. He ran a hand through the younger man’s long, blond hair, and the words stumbled out of his mouth. “You’re…you’re _home,_ Sylvan.”

Eamonn smiled when Sylvan smiled, and let the General Manager wrap his arms around him and whisper in his ear.

“You’re home to me, too.”

 


End file.
